Chapter 21

Come later afternoon, Sam finally shifted back to human form when his headache had subsided just enough for him to think properly. His head felt like it had been pounded with a meat cleaver.

He hurriedly pulled some clothes on in the bathroom, and when he stepped out, he gave Dean a quizzical look. Dean however, was looking over the witch's diary, flipping from page to page to see if he maybe misunderstood something.

But the words and their meanings were written on the page as clear as day. Upon realizing this, Dean angrily threw the book into the wall opposite him, and raked his hands through his short hair.

Sam sighed, and then walked across the room where the book crash-landed on the carpeted floor, and picked it up. He looked down at the front cover, and then his eyes looked up at Dean with the saddest eyes Dean had ever seen.

"What are we gonna do, Dean?" Sam asked defeated, "This is real big."

"I know," Dean admitted, "but we'll figure this out."

"I think we need help." Sam suggested as he sat down on his bed so that he was facing Dean. He then tossed the black book on his pillow and took in a deep calming breath.

"Who?" Dean prodded as he looking searchingly into Sam's face.

Sam shrugged, "Bobby, Pastor Jim, Dad, anybody. This is too big for just us."

"You're probably right," Dean admitted with a tired sigh, "I'll give Bobby a call."

Sam nodded as Dean whipped his phone from his pocket and dialed Bobby's number, before holding it up to his ear. After three rings, Bobby finally answered.

"Hello?" Bobby's brusque voice answered.

"Hey Bobby, it's Dean." Dean greeted as he tried to keep his voice under control.

"Hey Dean, what's going on?" Bobby asked sounding a little more enthusiastic.

"I'm with Sam again," Dean replied with a small chuckle.

"How'd that happen?" Bobby prodded, but still sounding happy.

"Long story," Dean replied curtly, "I actually have something to ask you."

"Alright, shoot."

Dean then went on to explain to Bobby about what happened with the witch and how she wasn't really dead. He explained what he had read in the witch's journal, and what her intentions for Sam were.

There was a few moments of silence, and for a minute, Dean thought that he had lost the connection.

"You there, Bobby?" Dean asked curiously.

There was a cough from the other side of the line, and then Bobby finally spoke up.

"You boys got yourselves into some deep crap." Bobby commented grimly.

"I know," Dean replied with a wary eye-roll, "that's why we need your help."

"I'd be glad to help, but where's your dad?"

"I didn't really wanna call him, because last time Sam and dad saw each other, Sam nearly ripped his throat out." Dean replied with a soft snicker.

"Don't be melodramatic, Dean." Sam snapped.

Apparently Bobby heard the exchange, Dean thought as he heard Bobby give a soft chuckle.

"Guess John just has that effect on people." Bobby commented mirthfully.

Dean smiled to himself as he remembered the last time he was at Bobby's house with his father. Bobby had actually chased John out of the house with a shotgun in his hand, cocked and ready to fire it. At the time it was completely horrifying, but now it was a good laugh.

"I'll be there in a couple days," Bobby finally said in a serious tone, "but I think you should call John. Tell him what ya found."

Dean nodded to himself, "Yea…I'll call him tonight."

"Good," Bobby replied, "see you boys in a few days."

Dean flipped his phone shut, and then put it on the nightstand next to his bed.

Sam looked at him questioningly, waiting for him to tell him what was going on.

"Bobby will be here in a few days." Dean relayed with a serious tone, "but he wants me to give dad a call. He said dad should know what's going on."

Sam nodded, "He should." He agreed.

Dean looked at Sam, taken aback slightly.

"You really think I should give dad a call after what happened the last time you saw each other?" Dean prodded.

Sam shrugged, and then nodded. Their dad, no matter how much they fought, had a right to know what was going on.

Dean nodded to himself and the picked up his phone, but before dialing any numbers, or flipping it open, he looked at Sam worriedly.

"How're you feeling?" Dean asked with concern.

Sam gave a humorless chuckle, "like crap."

"What's the matter?" Dean asked as his eyes widened.

"My head hurts, but not as bad as it did before." Sam admitted as he lifted his hand to massage his temple.

"You think it's a side-effect?" Dean prodded.

"To what, eating my soul? No, probably just from when she knocked me out." Sam replied dismissively.

"Sam, she threw her mojo at you. She didn't knock you out." Dean informed, his voice cracking on the last word.

Sam's eyes widened and his hand came to a halt on his head. He gave Dean a searching look, hoping to find a hint of sarcasm, or any kind of sign at he was joking. But he could tell that he wasn't.

So his headache was a result of that witch helping herself to his soul? He suppressed an annoyed growl at the thought, but swore to himself that he would end her if it was the last thing he did.

Dean sighed, and then flipped his phone open, and dialed their fathers' number. They needed him now more than ever. He then held his phone to his ear, and listened to the repetitive ringing.

Finally it went to voicemail, and Dean heard their fathers' voice.

When it beeped, signaling Dean to start relaying his message he took in a deep calming breath to steady his voice.

"Dad, it's me Dean. Listen, I'm with Sammy and we're in Texas…we really think you should be here for this dad. This is bigger than we thought."

He then pulled the phone away from his ear, and closed it before sliding it back into his pocket.

Dean looked at Sam, and offered him a reassuring smile. He knew he had to be strong for Sam's sake. He couldn't let Sam know that he had doubts about this.

He could only hope that Bobby and their father would come and help them figure this out. He hoped that he didn't lose Sammy before this was all over.